Legend of the Batman
by TMoe97
Summary: The story of Bruce Wayne and his crime-fighting alter ego the Batman, told in a new perspective. This story will tell the many tales of the Dark Knight, from his rise to Gotham's hero all the way to the very end. Because in Gotham, every night is a long one.
1. The Knightmare

"Hurry up mom and dad, we'll be late for the play!" shouted Bruce, ecstatic.

Bruce loved these nights, nights where his parents weren't bogged down with their work and they could take him anywhere he wanted. Tonight the Mask of Zorro was playing at the Monarch and ever since he heard about it Thomas and Martha Wayne never heard the end of it. Once the night was finally upon them, Bruce was having a hard time controlling himself.

"Calm down Bruce, your mother is almost ready, you know she can take a while," said Thomas, a warm smile spreading across his face.

"I heard that dear, and I believe the reason I'm taking so long is because someone was having trouble with their tie," Martha's voice echoed out from the bedroom.

Bruce was quietly snickering to himself while his parents playfully bickered, forgetting for a small moment about the play. Alfred Pennyworth, the family butler, waited patiently at the door, a smirk playing at the edge of his lips. Bruce was bouncing silently on the steps when Martha emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later. Thomas turned to look at his wife, the sight of her never ceasing to amaze him. Of course, it didn't take long to revert back to his slightly childish ways.

Looking down at his watch, Thomas said, "What were you doing dear? You took so long my watch broke."

Rolling her eyes Martha replied, "Your watch has always been broken dear, don't blame me for your memory relapses."

"Aww, do you have to start a fight on our night out dear," leaning in towards her, "especially with children present?"

Mimicking her husbands actions, she too leaned forward and said, "Don't start what you can't finish dear, being a doctor shouldn't you know that?"

"Oh, she got you dad!" Bruce said in-between spurts of laughter.

"She may have got me, but I got you Bruce," Thomas said. Then, in one fluid motion, he swooped down low and picked Bruce up, both of them laughing all the while. A small cough came from Alfred, catching their attention.

"I hate to end this moment you two are having, but don't you have a play to get to?" Alfred said, eyebrow raised, the smirk remaining on his face.

"Oh, alright if we must go; go on Bruce, out to the car," Thomas said, putting his son back down on the ground. Bruce immediately rushed out, his parents walking close behind him, Alfred remained behind holding the door open. Once they left the manor into the driveway, the door swung slowly shut behind them.

\- A couple hours later -

"That was amazing!" Bruce shouted, as he and his parents exited the theater. Thomas and Martha were in each others arms walking behind Bruce, who was mimicking fencing motions in front of them.

"I'm glad you liked it son," Thomas said; he then looked down an alleyway to the right of him and said, "Hold on Bruce, I can see the car through here, let's just cut through this way."

"Are you sure dear, it doesn't look too safe," Martha said cautiously. "We should just go around."

"Honey, it'll be fine, the alley isn't too long and it's already getting late. The sooner we get home the better," Thomas replied.

The family then turned down the alley, moving swiftly at Martha's insistence, the car growing closer with each step. Bruce, however, felt uneasy, for some reason something wasn't sitting right with him. Suddenly, the car started to stretch further and further away, the alley beginning to elongate. The noise of the windy Gotham air slowly died away, until no noise could be heard, save for the breathing coming from the family. Then, a shadow could be seen coming from the end of the alley, facing towards them; the shadow then began to move, its footsteps echoing like an earthquake.

Bruce suddenly knew what was about to happen, he's seen it play out multiple times, and knew he was powerless to stop it. The footsteps echoed louder and louder, until finally it stopped in front of them with a final boom. The shadow up close took the form of a man, yet with no facial features; slowly, the shadow produced a gun from within itself, as it did many times before. Bruce was suddenly pushed back behind his father, his face scared yet determined. Martha too was kept behind her husband, but stuck close to him eyes filled with fear.

A hand emitted from the shadow, the gun still outstretched; after what seemed like a lifetime in a matter of mere moments, a voice spoke from the shadow.

"Give me your wallet now, and the pearl necklace, don't try to be a hero." The voice was distorted, yet very low, having an almost demonic-like quality to it.

Bruce knew what happened next, but could never stop what was coming; it was as if he was being forced against his will to witness the scene about to transpire. Thomas's face turned angry as he lunged forward, fist outstretched and a small shout coming from his mouth. An echo of thunder cracked around the alleyway, as Thomas's body was suddenly flung backwards, blood pouring out from the wound in his chest. Smoke curled out of the barrel of the revolver, a shell clinked quietly on the floor. A scream emitted from Martha's lips, as she watched her husband start to bleed out on the alley floor.

The shadow stalked forward, its thumb clicking back the hammer of the gun, the clip spinning to the next bullet in the round. "Shut the fuck up lady, or I'll shoot," the shadow growled, putting the revolver inside the loop of the necklace, yanking Martha closer to him.

This action caused Martha to scream in terror, trying to push away from the creature pulling her in. Bruce could do nothing but watch, as he did many times over. Another, even louder crack of thunder shook the alley, and then Martha too flew backwards, blood spilling out of the hole in her neck. The force of the shot caused the revolver to yank back hard on the necklace, causing the band to be snapped. Bruce watched as hundreds of tiny pearls scattered around him, falling from the sky like raindrops. With a loud thud, Martha's body finally connected with the ground, laying right next to Thomas's already motionless corpse. Tears streaming down his face, Bruce slowly turned to look at the bodies of his parents, before looking back to the shadow figure. There was, however, no one there, only a brick wall, turning the entire alley into a dead end.

At this point, Bruce went to his knees, silently sobbing, asking the same question in his head as he did the many other times he had this experience, why? Police sirens echoed far away, speeding their way to the alley from the precinct to respond to the shots fired. This time though, something changed, darkness began to surround Bruce as he knelt there sobbing, until only he and the bodies of his parents were left in inky blackness. Then, Bruce felt something, an icy cold sensation on his leg; this feeling caused him to turn around. Stilling laying in a pool of blood, he saw both his parents facing him, eyes stark white; the cold sensation belong to the hand of his father, who was gripping Bruce's leg tightly.

"You... you could... have... saved... us," the body of Thomas Wayne choked out.

"Why... did... did... you watch... us die?" Martha's corpse asked.

Bruce tried to back away but couldn't, his father's hand refusing to release his leg. All he could do was shake his head in terror, and watch his thought-to-be-dead parents speak.

"We would be... alive... if it weren't... for... yoooouuuuu," Thomas's corpse croaked out the last syllable, dragging it out for what seemed like an eternity. His head then rested silently back into the ever-expanding pool of blood, his hand relinquishing his grip from Bruce's leg.

"It wasn't my fault," Bruce said, eyes wide with fear as he backed slowly away from the corpses of his parents. "I couldn't do anything, I... I need to get out."

Bruce started frantically walking around in a circle, looking for a way out, only to find darkness surrounding him. It felt like it was enclosing him, trapping him in a suffocating space of darkness.

"I need to get out, I need to get out, I need to get out," Bruce continuously muttered to himself. Eventually, the suffocation got to him, and in one last breath he shouted, "I need to wake up!"

Bruce Wayne jolted up in bed, icy perspiration laying on his forehead, his breathing heavy. He covered his face with his hands, wiping the sweat from his brow. Moonlight shown gently through the window in front of him, bathing him in a white glow. He turned towards the alarm clock, its face reading 2:30, and he slowly lowered himself back down onto the bed. No matter how hard he tried the nightmare always came, sometimes it lasted a few hours, other times it lasts the whole night. All he knew was, that night will forever haunt him, and it will be a stain in his past that he can never wash away.


	2. This Life of Mine

Bruce Wayne looked out the window of the limousine that took him through the streets of Gotham. He was wearing an onyx black suit, with a red tie, and black laced shoes shined to a nice glow. In the driver's seat was Alfred, wearing the stereotypical chauffeur getup. Outside the window, Bruce saw the rot that was eating at the city's core, men and women of many backgrounds shuffling along the sidewalk, most hurrying to return to the safety of their homes. The ones that were homeless took up most alleyways, huddled around garbage fires. Garbage littered street corners, in bags and in other smaller forms of various wrappers and torn newspapers. And although it may not be apparent in broad daylight, crime runs rampant through the city streets, especially in the night.

Bruce momentarily pinches his tired eyes before asking Alfred to turn on the limo's television, to which he obliges.

" Hello, my name is Jack Ryder, coming to you live from Gotham City News headquarters in Gotham City, joined with me is my lovely co-anchor Vicki Vale. Anything new happening out in the world today Vicki?"

" Certainly Jack, to start there seems to be no end to the crime wave that has spiked recently in Gotham. The GCPD has issued warnings to Gotham City residents to stay indoors at all times from the hours of nine pm to seven am, and avoid suspicious areas such as alleyways and abandoned buildings. In other news, lost billionaire Oliver Queen has recently resurfaced in Starling City. Thought to be dead after his ship disappeared in the middle of the sea, his return has left multiple citizens scratching their heads wondering where he was this whole time. So far he has no comments to say to the press at this time."

" Good thing we don't have any lost billionaires of our own, Vicki."

" Indeed Jack, speaking of which, Bruce Wayne will be attending another charity event shortly after this news broadcast which will be covered by yours truly. For our final piece of news for the folks listening in, Harvey Dent apparently has his sights set on the new D.A. position open in Gotham. We managed to get some live feed at his recent appeal to the public yesterday afternoon.

" Crime has been sweeping the streets of Gotham, and although we owe much gratitude from our police force for catching many criminals in the past they always return to crime the minute they are released. Our justice system does not give the long sentences needed for these criminals and in some cases, these people make bail within the hour they are thrown in a cell. I promise that if I were given the position of D.A. that Gotham would see a significant decrease in crime and no longer will criminals own the streets meant for the normal, hard-working citizen. Remember, a vote for Dent, is a vote for a better, safer tomorrow."

"Well, he certainly has my vote Vicki. That's it for our program this morning, tune in in a couple of hours as Vicki Vale will be covering the charity event being attended by the most prominent members of Gotham's society. Take care."

"Sounds like Ms. Vale will be attending your charity event Master Wayne, haven't you expressed romantic interest for her in the past?" Alfred inquired as the television cut to commercials.

"That was just a small romantic fling Alfred, we haven't seen each other in weeks since our last night together," replied Bruce.

"I see..." Alfred falls silent.

"What are we doing Alfred?"

"Sir?"

"I mean, every other day we go to events like the one we are about to attend that express how much you can change the city as long as your pockets are big enough. Yet, whenever I look out this window, all I see are the same sullen faces, the same dirtied streets... the same dying city. And with this recent crime wave, what good will money do? I would be surprised if any of our donations make it to the bank at all before some criminal steals it for themselves."

Alfred looked into the rearview mirror at Bruce and said, "I know how you must feel Master Bruce but your parents believed strongly in organizations like these. Even though change may not be noticeable now, I can tell you with certainty that when your parents were alive, they have made changes through these events. It was only when Master Thomas and Martha Wayne passed on that change stopped. So it may look bad now, but I implore you sir to keep the Wayne Foundation alive, for your parents sake."

Bruce's face looked sullen, before he slowly nodded and replied, "All right Alfred, I'll be patient."

The limousine pulled around another corner before pulling to a stop in front of the Gotham History Museum. Press lined up on two sides behind velvet rope, and in between was a red carpet extending towards the building's main entrance. Alfred got out of the car first, walking in a dignified manner towards the back of the limo where Bruce was seated. Standing with one arm behind his back, he pulled the door open slowly and courteously with his other hand; to which Bruce then stepped out of the car. Once his presence was made open to the people gathered outside, multiple press outlets started flashing their cameras and reporters asked rapid fire questions with various microphones extended towards him.

It was going to be a long day, thought an already exasperated Bruce.

-Later-

"It'll be fine Master Bruce, be strong, I'll be here for you," Alfred said.

Tears streamed down Bruce's face, ahead of him he could just barely make out the outline of two caskets being carried to the Wayne Mausoleum through his tear-filled eyes. Everyone was carrying an umbrella over themselves to shield them from the incessant downpour coming from the sky. Alfred was standing slightly behind and to the right of Bruce, one arm holding an umbrella and the other arm grasping Bruce's shoulder.

Eventually, the macabre group were standing silent inside the structure, the groups carrying the caskets slowly sliding them into their respective openings. Bruce saw people opening and closing their mouths, paying respects to the deceased Thomas and Martha Wayne, yet he could not hear their words. All he could think about was that night, the alley, the gun, the blood. Bruce then roughly wrestled free from Alfred's sympathetic hand and began running outside into the woods.

He ignored the calls of his name, calls to return to the mausoleum where his parents will now lay in rest forever. Right now, he just wanted to be as far away from there as possible, to be in solitude. After enough running, Bruce's foot took another step, before the earth itself swallowed him whole into the abyss. He was left screaming, tumbling further and further down, light from the world outside slowly getting smaller and smaller. Eventually, he connected with the ground, something snapped, but Bruce couldn't tell if it was him or the planks of wood that cascaded around his motionless form.

After a while of groaning in agony, Bruce started to hear some noise, could it be Alfred calling to him from above? He heard the noise again, slowly growing in multitude, but it was not coming from above. Although it was hard to see, there was an opening in front of him and he crawled forward to look into it, and was met with thousands of tiny beady eyes. He screamed again and shuffled back in horror, causing the eyes in front of him to emit a high pitched shriek before darting towards him in the shape of hundreds of bats. They tackled the terrified Bruce Wayne to the ground, scratching and clawing at his face and clothes. Slowly, bits and pieces of flesh were being ripped from his body, blood spraying all around the small cave. This agony continued for what seemed like hours, until the screams and shrieks ceased, and the bats flew up and out of the opening created by the now deceased Bruce Wayne.

"AAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!" shouted Bruce Wayne, thrusting himself out of another horrifying nightmare. He shakily began feeling around his entire body, making sure the dream was merely that, and then he settled steadily back into his bed once he found everything to be in place. The clock read 4:00 am on its face, another sleepless night.


	3. Dark Waters

"Good morning Alfred," said Bruce, slowly descending the staircase to the manor's main hall in his bathrobe.

"Good morning sir, I trust you slept well?" said Alfred, wearing his butler attire and carrying an assortment of towels from the laundry room to the kitchen.

"As well as I can," muttered Bruce under his breath.

"I'm sorry sir? I didn't quite catch that."

"I'm fine Alfred, I just need something to wake me up for the rest of the day."

"Coffee then? I'll have some ready for you in a moment sir," said Alfred, picking up the pace towards the kitchen to prepare.

Continuing his long walk down the staircase, Bruce then heard Alfred's voice echo from the kitchen, "There was an urgent letter that arrived for you this morning sir, from your company. I kept it although you may not be interested, but it has to do with acquiring a new business partner. I know you haven't really shown interest in the goings on inside your company, but perhaps you could attend this once?" Alfred exited from the kitchen meeting Bruce at the bottom of the staircase with a platter consisting of coffee, a bowl of sugar, and creamer.

While he made coffee, Bruce said, "Sure Alfred, I've nothing better to do. At least having a say in my company's decisions will be more of an influence to this city than all those charity events ever will. Just give me a moment to get prepared, when is it anyways?"

Looking at his pocket watch, Alfred replied, "Oh about twenty minutes from now." Seeing Bruce's surprised face he continued, "I did say that you never expressed interest before, so I let you sleep in before notifying you."

"And if I happened to oversleep? What were you going to do then?"

Shrugging, Alfred replied, "Simply use it to keep the fire going sir." Smiling, he walked back towards the kitchen, platter in his hands. Once he reached the entrance he looked back and said, "I suggest you finish your coffee sir and get dressed, you only have eighteen minutes now."

Downing his drink, Bruce gently put it on the bannister and started running back up the stairs towards his room.

-Later, at Wayne Enterprises, Gotham Location-

"Well I would be glad to start once... ah! Speak of the devil here he is, Bruce Wayne welcome to Wayne Enterprises, Gotham division but of course you didn't need to know that."

The man extended his hand towards Bruce, to wish he shakes saying, "Right, sorry I couldn't be here earlier, I had a pretty long night and the news was unexpected. Sorry again but for the life of my I can't remember your name."

Laughing, the man replies, "No harm done Mr. Wayne, the name is William Earle, I was recently appointed the new head of the company."

"Well congratulations on the promotion," responded Bruce with a smile, "but judging by the letter I received that isn't the reason you brought me here, is it?"

Raising his eyebrows slightly, Earle quickly returns to his calm demeanor and replied, "Right you are Mr. Wayne, we were only waiting on you before we got started, please have a seat at the table and we'll get on with it."

Nodding courteously, Bruce began making his way to the only empty seat at the table. The whole time he was thinking on his brief encounter with Earle, the way he acted seemed off to him. His hair was matted and greasy against his forehead, his suit only slightly disheveled. His smile seemed slightly forced, even by normal standards, and for a room with constant air conditioning he was sweating a lot. What is going on?

"Bruce Wayne?" the words came seemingly from nowhere. Trying to hide his surprise, he calmly turned his head towards where the words originated from. What he saw next was a more friendly face, slight smile and gently eyes behind prescription glasses. He recognized this face, yet he couldn't quite place how he knew, then it hit him.

A grin stretching across his face, Bruce said, "Lucius Fox? Wow, it's been a long time, how have you been?"

"Oh, same old same old, still working in the R&D Department making the latest in WayneTech. I see you've gotten a little older since you've been here last."

"Well time hasn't escaped you either old friend, say, are we still the best in technology?"

"You know it Mister Wayne, although Stagg has been trying harder as of late; but we can catch up later, we have business to attend to."

Giving a small nod, Bruce turns back to face the front of the room. Seems Earle started while he and Lucius were catching up. At first it was just a bunch of statistics, I suppose this was meant to convince me as to why we should take up a new partner, Bruce thought. He didn't really care about the why more who? If it meant a higher intake financially, Bruce was behind it. Would they consider STAR labs, increasing the potential for tech; if I know Lucius he would love a bigger arsenal to play with. LexCorp was tossed around in the past, although never fully considered due to some rumors surrounding the company. That didn't stop Luthor himself from calling occasionally to make deals.

"So I know I've been rambling on about numbers and reasons but I'll get right to the point. Who? Well, we have been talking, and we are considering branching out to some shipping companies in the area, so we can ship our products abroad. Our main pick as of this moment being Falcone Shipping Co." said Earle, smiling with his arms outstretched.

While everyone nodded around him, Bruce was growing frustrated. Falcone? To think he left the company in the hands of someone who would even remotely consider Falcone as a business partner. Time to put a stop to this right now.

"I'm sorry, did you say that you were considering Falcone, as in Carmine Falcone, as a business partner?" asked Bruce, an incredulous look spread on his face.

His smile wavering, Earle continued, "Well, yes, I mean, nothing is final yet but, in terms of increasing financial intake for this company his shipping yard could help increase sales in countries Wayne Enterprises have never been to."

"So, am I the only one who remember the articles on Falcone; about how he uses his container yard as a front for various illegal activities, mainly selling various illegal narcotics? Or how about a more recent article where a month ago a deceased body was found in one of Falcone's shipping containers?"

"Yes Bruce we've all read the papers but officially no one has found any actual evidence of drugs in his container yard. All those papers were based on speculation alone, and the dead body wasn't from Falcone it was dropped off there by some other gangster," said Earle, growing more and more irritated towards the end.

"Falcone was the one who said he had no connection to the body in the first place," sighing, Bruce continued, "the point is, Falcone's dirty, the whole city knows this. We won't be attaching my parents company anywhere close to his business."

"The last time I checked, Mister Wayne, this company hasn't belonged to you or your family in a long time. I'm the head of this company, and have been for a few months now, so if Falcone partners with us it will be with or without your consent." A smug grin crossed Earle's face as he smoothed down his suit and stood in a haughty manner. Darkness covered Bruce's face, he had an angry glare poised directly at Earle, though he tried to hide it.

"If you could make the decision to partner with any company you wanted, then why did you extend an invitation for me to be present during this process? Why are any of us here, if what you say is true?" Bruce asked raising his head to face Earle, his glare turned to a frosty stare.

"Because, Mister Wayne, company rules state that, although I am the official vote in terms of major company additions and subtractions, all major members must be present during these decisions. That means all the heads from every division of Wayne Enterprises, as well as the current owner himself. Simply put, your very presence allowed any and all ideas to not only be entertained, but to be pushed forward, to me, and I decide what ideas will become reality or be dropped entirely. So, from this day forward, Wayne Enterprises will now be working along with Falcone Shipping Company!" he flourished again at the end, smile plastered to his face, only to be met with silence. He quickly dropped the act back to a normal cold gaze and said, "I will be meeting with him tonight to finalize the deal, this meeting is now adjourned."

With that, William Earle turned and left the board room, walking briskly back to his office. One by one, everyone else left, until only Bruce and Lucius were sitting in the office alone. Turning to look at Lucius, Bruce asked in a slightly wavering voice, "How much has changed since I've been gone Lucius? Who else has Wayne Enterprises done deals with?"

"I should have warned you Bruce, but ever since our last chair head left and Earle took over, he's been running this company downhill. This was the first major decision he has made outside the company, but inside Bruce? It has been chaos. Most of our major science projects have either been put on hold or discontinued indefinitely. Even our R&D Department has been significantly downsized."

"I thought you said our tech was still the best out there?"

"Well, that may have been a slight exaggeration." Bruce then put his head in his hands, it felt like the room was collapsing around him. Lucius put a friendly hand on his shoulder before continuing, "It's not all bad, as I said this was his first change to Wayne's company dealings, so the company isn't as dirty as you may think it is."

Lifting his head out of his hands, Bruce retorted, "Then why are my employees just going along with what he says? If he has been making poor business decisions, then how come he hasn't been replaced by now?"

"Well, that's one of the reasons R&D got downsized. Somehow, whenever people confront Earle on his decisions, their paycheck gets cut, whole sections of Wayne Enterprises are removed and replaced, and recently? Employees themselves are sacked, and are then being replaced by a bunch of young 'yes men'. Younger adults who are either too stupid to see what's going on, or too desperate for a job they'll agree to anything so long as they get paid."

Shaking his head, Bruce got up and started pacing. Then, he had a thought, "Lucius? How long has Earle been pushing this partnership with Falcone?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Lucius replied, "If I had to guess, for about a month now. He couldn't get it through as he said unless all important faculty was present. And considering your continued absence from the company, we thought he would never be able to do it."

"And then I showed up and unwittingly played into his hands. I'm willing to bet anything that Falcone has been using some less-than-legal contacts to keep Earle in control for as long as he has been." Bruce finished, turning towards Lucius. "I'm going to look into throwing a wrench in all of this, as long as I'm still breathing Wayne Enterprises will not be doing business with people like Falcone."

Getting up from his chair, Lucius said, "I'll take your word on that Mister Wayne. I'm sorry you couldn't see the company in one of its better times, but this is how it's going to be for a while. Until something changes, not even I can go against it without being thrown under the bus, and if Falcone's involved I mean that quite literally."

Taking Lucius's hand and shaking it, Bruce smiled saying, "Don't worry friend, although my absence from the company means I don't have influence here, that just means I'll have to find another way."

With that, Bruce turns to leave, but before he exits Lucius asks, "Another way to what, sir?"

Still walking out of the boardroom, he replies, "To take my company back."


	4. Old Acquaintances

\- That same night -

Ringing echoes throughout the halls of Wayne Manor, bell chime after bell chime, continuing throughout its empty halls. Then, the patter of bare feet on wooden floors, walking towards the source to answer its call. The ringing stops, and a man stops in front of a door, behind this door is the origin of the sound.

"I heard the ringing sir, do you need som- oh my god!" Alfred shouted in surprise at the sight presented before him. Bruce Wayne was sagging against the chair in the study, blood dripping from his body onto the floor. Various cuts and gashes were scattered across his face. Blood soaked his shirt and a small pool of his blood was dripping from his body.

"Alfred," said a dying Bruce, "I need help..." he finished with one last wheezing breath, before falling silent.

\- A few hours earlier -

"Oh, that bad I take it?" Alfred inquired to a frustrated Bruce.

"The company is partnering with a known criminal Alfred. Of course the GCPD says most of his charges were merely allegations, but the whole city knows Falcone has the police force in his pocket. If he is behind this then I can't really do anything to prevent this from happening."

"It can't be that cut-and-dry sir. It is your company after all."

"If Falcone has the kind of control I know he does, if I try anything drastic to sway this decision, he'll make me pay for it in blood. And it won't be just me, anyone who ever had close contact with me will pay as well. Put simply, even if I could override Earle's control over the company, Falcone will still be there. But I can't just let this happen, there has to be something I can do."

"Well, not to have defeatist attitude on the scenario sir, but it appears there is nothing you can do, if that is the case," Alfred finished, retreating deeper into the house. Calling over his shoulder he said, "I'll finish cleaning around the house sir, don't do anything drastic while I'm gone."

Stopping in his tracks, Bruce stands still, hand under his chin pondering the situation before him. Muttering under his breath, he says, "There's only one way to stop this, and Alfred won't like it."

\- Elsewhere, at the Falcone Container Yard -

"So, I take it Bruce Wayne wasn't too happy to hear about his position on this deal?" asked Carmine Falcone.

"Not at all, but who cares, he has no power in the company thanks to you, and with this deal it will stay that way for a long time," responded William Earle.

Both men were sitting across from each other, an office table situated between them. The room was dark, the only light coming from a street lamp outside and a light from the hallway outside the small office. There were two guards, one posted inside the office and one in the hallway, both wearing all black suits and holding Uzis. Earle was nervous, sweat slowly crawling down his face; contrarily Falcone was confident, his hands clasping each other on top of the table.

Cocking his head to the side, Falcone asked, "Why so nervous Earle? You should be leaving this place with a skip in your step, but from what I see it looks like you're going to shit yourself."

"Sorry sir, its just, I may have been a bit too cocky when telling Wayne about the partnership. What if he tries something? Like I said, he wasn't happy at all when I informed him of our deal."

"Tries something? What, do you think Bruce Wayne is? He doesn't have the balls to do the kind of shit I do daily. Besides, if he does get a little bit too big for his britches, you can be assured it'll be taken care of. Now run along, have a drink, celebrate! First thing tomorrow we will be transporting large shipments of Wayne's products overseas," said Falcone smiling.

"And what about the, OTHER, product? Are you sure it will be safe as well?"

"Hey. You leave that to me, alright? There's no need to stick your nose where it don't belong; besides, if I had any doubts that it wouldn't be safe, we wouldn't be havin' this conversation. Now, as I said, scram, I have some private matters to attend to now." With that, Falcone waved his hand in a shooing motion towards Earle, and one of his guards opened the door as a gesture for him to leave.

Saying a quick thank you to Falcone, Earle got up and waddled swiftly out of the door; once he was in the hallway the guard outside went in and the door shut behind him. Grabbing a handkerchief from his pocket, Earle dabbed his forehead a few times while he walked towards the exit to the docks. He opened the door to the outside and he pulled out his phone speed-dialing his limousine to pick him up. Suddenly a pair of hands emerged from behind him, wrapping around his neck choking him. He started kicking, gasping for air, the phone in his hand dropped to the ground, clattering against the asphalt. Eventually he stopped struggling, sagging into unconsciousness, and he dropped to the ground.

'So far so good,' thought Bruce Wayne, looking around to make sure no one saw the event. Picking up Earle he dragged him around to the side of the building, hiding him in the shadows. Bruce was wearing a black ski mask, a long-sleeved black shirt, and black pants with black boots. Concealed underneath his shirt was a light-weight bullet proof vest, a gift from a benefactor at one of his many charity events who had a few connections with the police. 'All I need to do is find and destroy the documents proving his partnership with Wayne Enterprises. Falcone may have connections, but I doubt any of them will allow him to illegally transport my company's products abroad. Without those papers, his cover is blown, and my company will still be clean.'

With that final thought, Bruce peeked through the small glass window on the door leading inside. 'It looks clear, but who knows who's on the second floor, which is where Falcone's office is located.' Then he heard it, footsteps echoing down the stairs towards him. Hastily he crouched low and jogged as quietly as he could around the building right next to Earle's unconscious body. The door immediately slammed open, followed by Falcone's angered voice.

"Who the fuck does Cobblepot think he is!? Didn't I send him the bodies of the last of his people who tried to take over my turf? In pieces?! I guess he didn't get the message," finished Falcone. Then, the sound of car doors being opened and closed, and tire squeals as the car hummed off and into the distance. Breathing a sigh of relief, Bruce returned to the front and quietly entered the building. 'I don't know how long he will be gone, so I better make this quick.'

So far the first floor was empty, it was a white, slightly dirtied, room that looked a lot like a dentist's office. There was a small reception area, with a door leading to a staircase to the second floor. Chairs lined the wall to the right and a small window overlooking the container yard was to the left. Bruce quickly went through the door and crouched his way up the steps. Quietly, he opened the door to the second floor a crack and peeked out. Outside he could only see one guard, 'I guess the rest of Falcone's men accompanied Falcone when he left.' Closing the door, Bruce got up and made two loud knocks before hopping over the staircase railing and hanging there.

"Frankie?" he heard from outside the door, "I swear to god Frankie if you're trying to scare me again..." Once he heard the door creak open, Bruce swung himself up the railing and grabbed the guard by his shirt, before yanking him back down with him over the railing. After a small yelp of surprise, there was a small smack from the man's head connecting with the ground and then there was silence. Bruce then lifted himself back onto the landing above and headed through the door. 'Judging by the lack of response to this guard's disappearance, I guess my original hunch on the location of any other guards was correct,' Bruce thought.

Continuing through the door, he walked down the hallway before stopping in front of a door labeled "head office". Slowly, he opened this door, again crouched down as to not draw attention to himself. Going through the opening into the office, he walked over to the desk to begin his investigation. Nothing on top, he walked around and began looking through drawers. The drawer on the left contained nothing but a gun and some boxes of revolver ammunition. On the right, were rows of files organized in alphabetical order. Flipping through them, Bruce checked every category the papers might be under. B for Bruce Wayne, no. E for enterprises, no. F for Falcone Shipping, no. Then, under the W category, he found a stack of signed papers for the authorization of Falcone Shipping Co. to ship any and all products from Wayne Enterprises. Bingo.

But just to be safe, Bruce began ripping various documents into shreds to cover his tracks, not wanting Falcone to figure out that Bruce was ever here. Shoving various filing cabinets onto the ground, he made absolutely sure that this looked like an act of company espionage and had little to do with him as possible. Stowing the papers underneath his armored vest, he began to make his exit. 'This may not stop Falcone, but this definitely will stall any illegal activities he may have had planned for a little while.'

Then, he heard a gun cock behind him, "Who the fuck are you? And what are you doing in the boss's office?"

Turning, Bruce saw it was the same guard he thrown down the stairs. 'Dammit, I probably made too much noise and stirred him back into consciousness.' Raising his hands in a surrender gesture, he began moving away from the guard.

"Stop moving asshole, Falcone will want to talk to you, and I would hate to kill you before that happens."

Stopping, Bruce spied around the room for anything that might get him out of this situation. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the drawer containing the revolver was still open. If he could just grab it quickly and use it as a distraction, he can buy enough time to get out of here before Falcone returns. The guard looked young, and nervous, which could either play in his favor or get him killed if he has an itchy trigger finger. Only one way to find out.

Bruce tried reaching for the gun, only for a shot to ring out from the gun the guard was carrying. The bullet slammed like a car into his chest, sending him reeling into the window, cracking it slightly. Leaning against it trying to catch his breath, Bruce stalked one step forward, only to be met with another bullet railing into his gut, this time breaking through the armor. This second bullet caused his body to fly back like a rag doll through the window, breaking it to pieces, and falling to the ground below. Coughing up blood, Bruce tried to remain conscious, but to no avail, darkness overtook him and he blacked out.

He awoke in the driver's seat of a car, his car. Somehow, he doesn't remember how, but between bleeding to death on the road to now he managed to get into his car and drive away. Putting his hand to his face, he felt the mask still on, 'Good, at least no one knows I was there,' he thought, 'I just need to stay awake long enough to make it back to the manor.' Looking down he saw blood covering his entire shirt, stretching down his pants and onto the floor. He could still feel pain where the bullet was implanted in his body. Looking in the rearview mirror he saw his mask was slashed in places where the glass cut him, blood emanating in each individual cut.

He was currently on the highway leading away from Gotham City towards the outskirts where the manor was. He drove for what felt like hours before finally reaching the manor gate. Weakly, he rolled the window down to enter the code to open the gate, once the gate was fully extended Bruce floored it the rest of the way to the manor. Once he reached the manor steps, he opened the car door open before stepping out onto the base of the steps. He immediately crumpled to the ground and started coughing up more blood before getting up and shuffling his way up the steps. Creaking the manor door open, he made his way inside and up the steps, tracking blood along the way. Eventually, he made it to the study before slumping down onto the sole chair in the room.

'I can't move anymore, I'm going to die if I can't call to Alfred for help.' Looking around, he then saw it, the bell that was used whenever someone in the family needed Alfred's assistance. Weakly stretching out to the bell, Bruce wrapped his hand around its handle and began shaking it with all the effort left in his body. After a few moments, he began hearing footsteps echoing towards the study, and then he began drifting into unconsciousness.

\- A few minutes later -

"Sir I insist we get you to a hospital, you need serious medical attention," said a worried Alfred, carrying Bruce towards the small manor infirmary. Back when Thomas Wayne was still alive, he was the best doctor in the whole of Gotham City. Although he had an office in Gotham General Hospital, he had a makeshift infirmary created in the manor for any emergencies that happened outside his regular work hours that only he could handle.

"No Alfred, no hospitals," replied Bruce in a weak voice. "I made a terrible mistake and if anybody... finds out I went to the hospital... Falcone will know... and he will know I was the intruder... kill everyone..."

"Sir stay with me, I told you to not do anything rash. It's been a while since I had to operate on anybody, so if I can't undo the damage then I will be forced to take you to get professional help."

Entering the infirmary, Alfred hoisted Bruce onto the nearest table and positioned his body fully onto the bed. Walking briskly around the room, he gathered the necessary medical supplies to begin his procedure. Scalpels, tweezers, stitching, scissors, bandages, etc. Once he was prepared, Alfred slapped on a pair of surgical gloves and went to work.

\- Later into the night -

Bruce awoke to pitch darkness, a heart rate monitor beeping steadily beside his bed and an IV tube stuck into his arm. He tried leaning up only groan in pain and lay back down. He began feeling his chest, bandages were wrapped around his midsection where the second bullet broke skin. Dragging his hand up to his face, he felt stitching all over it, sewing together the places where his face was cut. Although he was thankful to Alfred for mending his wounds, he knew that he would never be able to explain what happened to the public. And when his wounds are shown on television, Falcone will see, and he will come after Bruce with a vengeance.

"Resting well I take it? Stubborn fool, I told you you weren't ready, and yet you go out and risk your life anyways. If you stayed and completed your training, you wouldn't be licking your wounds as you are now."

Taken by surprise, Bruce was about to ask who was speaking to him, but he already knew who was there.

"Ra's Al Ghul, why are you here?" questioned Bruce instead.

Flicking on a dim lamp illuminating only the area Bruce was laying in, Ra's stepped forward, "Why am I here? I'm here to finish your training Bruce Wayne."


End file.
